


Survival 101

by MittenWraith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Kissing, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, go on and be your best self, heavily implied smut, i mean this is the author explicitly instructing you to imagine the smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 20:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12943704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/pseuds/MittenWraith
Summary: The bunker's ancient heater's given out, but after a long hunt and a longer drive home, they can survive one night with a little chill, right?





	Survival 101

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up to this lovely anon prompt in my inbox on Tumblr:  
> gee I wonder what'll happen when the heater in the bunker suddenly malfunctioned, I hope they do some snuggles nuggles  
> And instead of answering with a few cutesy headcanons, it somehow snowballed (get it? because it was so cold?) into this... Thanks for giving me something to do with half my day, anon. :P

It'd been almost a week since they'd left to hunt what turned out to be a whole pack of ghouls in northern Idaho. Their bones ached from the grueling hunt, climbing through the Rockies rounding up the last of the monsters before they could find another small town to prey on, the brutal conditions and arctic weather, on top of the long drive. They got no reprieve from the winter weather as they headed back toward Kansas. It was practically polar outside the bunker, and all they wanted after a long and exhausting hunt is a hot shower and a good long sleep.

It felt a little chillier than usual in the garage, but they didn’t think too much about it at first, because hey they did just open the doors and let all the cold air in along with the car. But opening the door into the rest of the bunker doesn’t bring any relief.

“Someone leave a window open?” Dean called out as he headed to his room to drop his bags.

“There are no windows,” Cas helpfully reminded him. “We are underground.”

A few minutes later, after some metallic banging and grumbling, Sam came out of the utility room with an ancient and rusty metal device in his hand. “Looks like the temperature regulator’s busted. I don’t even know where to start looking for a replacement.”

Dean grabbed it from him, looked it over blearily, trying to focus on the small parts after staring at the dark road for the last few hours. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen some stuff I can use to fix it.”

He started to shuffle zombie-like toward the garage to pick up the tools he’d need. Sam and Cas exchanged a frown behind his back before they each reached out and each grabbed one of Dean’s shoulders.

“Hey, I got a space heater, Dean. I should be okay until morning. You need some sleep,” Sam said.

“I don’t feel the cold,” Cas reminded them.

Dean frowned, blinking wearily at Cas. He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face. “Fine, okay. Yeah, we’ll live a few hours. I’m gonna go shower and try to warm up.” This time when Dean shuffled down the hall, Sam and Cas let him go.

He stopped in his room to peel out of his grungy road clothes, relieved at least that he wasn’t still covered in mud and gore from their last hunt. It had been a really long drive, and he never would’ve survived it otherwise. It was chilly in his room, so he changed fast, only stopping long enough to switch on his small and ancient space heater to warm the place up a bit while he let the excellent water pressure pound the knots out of his shoulders. He grabbed a big fluffy bath towel and shuffled down the hall clad in his coziest sweats, slippers, and his dead guy robe.

As he passed by, the light under Sam’s door switched off and he heard the bed creak as the giant moose settled in for the night. Dean rolled his shoulders and shook his head at the thought. Just a few more minutes and he could finally go horizontal for a few hours. He choked down a groan at the thought and shuffled on.

The shower room felt even colder than the rest of the bunker, somehow. Maybe it was the sheer amount of tile lining every surface, or the maze of water pipes behind the walls radiating cold into the room, but Dean knew just how to turn the entire room into his personal steam bath. He turned the hot water on in the first shower stall and slowly undressed while it warmed up.

He was more than ready for the blast of ultra-heated water when he stumbled into the stall. Dean had braced himself against the heat, so he was entirely unprepared for the icy blast he got instead. He let out a very manly high-pitched screech as the freezing water took him from sleepy to four-cups-of-coffee wide awake in two seconds flat as he lurched backward out of the stream and slipped on the wet tiles. The shock left him drenched and sprawled out on his ass against the cold tile in the middle of the room.

Whether it was the screeching or the flailing or the banging, Dean had no idea, but nevertheless his struggle had summoned Cas to his aid. He was grateful that for whatever reason Sam hadn’t seemed to hear anything, and was probably already fast asleep. So this particular personal shame was only on display for Cas, who now stood beside him, blinking down at him in confusion.

“Is everything all right? I heard screaming,” Cas said, scanning the room for hidden dangers while Dean slowly got to his feet and reached for his towel.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean replied, his muscles and joints aching twice as much as before after his impromptu shower acrobatics. The judges would’ve definitely docked points for that landing. “I think the hot water must be connected up through the main boiler. I was expecting a relaxing hot shower and got tossed in a snow drift instead.”

Cas turned and examined the shower stall, reaching out to turn off the water. “There’s no snow here, Dean. But the water is exceedingly chilled. You were smart to get out of the spray before your body temperature dropped any further.”

“Yeah, smart to land on my ass and pull something in my back in the process,” Dean replied, teeth chattering as he hurried to dry himself off and slip into his sweats, while his shivering only added to the soreness and tension in his aching muscles and his teeth had begun to hurt from chattering. “And it may as well have been snow for how fucking cold it was.”

Cas frowned at him as he tugged on his robe, and tapped two fingers to the middle of his bare chest. “Your core body temperature is dangerously low, Dean.” He sent a pulse of grace through Dean’s entire body, simultaneously warming him up and sending an entirely different sort of chill up his spine.

Dean felt his face grow warm, hoped that Cas would think it was just from whatever warming mojo he’d sent coursing through him, and rolled his markedly less stiff neck to avoid having to look Cas in the eye. “Aaah, thanks Cas. I think that, uh, did the trick. I’m gonna go back to my warm room and get my four hours so I can get this bullshit sorted first thing.”

He risked a glance over at Cas who was smiling more warmly than the sun, and almost felt his knees buckle again. It was just Cas, looking the same as he ever did in his ugly coat and his stupid blue tie, all wrinkled and worn from sitting in the back seat of the Impala for the last fourteen hours. There was an extra layer of what Dean would label exhaustion which hung around his shoulders and etched deeper lines around his eyes. It made Dean hesitate. 

“You sure you’re gonna be okay? You look almost as beat as I feel.”

Cas sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking out at even more random angles. “I believe I might lie down and rest for a few hours. I might not feel the cold, but that only means my grace is working harder to shield my body from its effects.”

Dean frowned at that. He hadn’t even thought to get Cas a heater for his room. It hadn’t even occurred to him that it would make Cas’s life more comfortable. The dude’s so stoically impervious to everything it’s all to easy to forget that even angels might appreciate a little creature comfort.

“You gonna be okay in your room? It’s gotta be freezing in there. I got the heater blasting in my room if you wanna...” Dean hesitated. Cas said he wanted to lie down, but the little couch in his room was nowhere near big enough or comfortable enough to actually sleep on. Not to mention it was currently buried under a week’s worth of dirty laundry. Offering Cas the desk chair for the night seemed worse than letting him shiver under the thin blanket in his own room.

“I... I should be fine,” Cas said, looking down at his feet. He met Dean’s eyes. “You need your rest. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Dean’s eyebrows drew together in a frown, his teeth clenched together around the offer he’d been impetuously about to make. Instead he nodded once, feeling another shiver pass through him. Cas hesitantly reached out again, resting a hand on Dean’s shoulder and sending another small wave of warmth pulsing through him. Dean gasped, his mouth dropping open as the blissful heat left his skin tingling, and Cas slumped a bit more. Dean caught him by the elbows before Cas collapsed against his chest.

“Hey, hey, buddy. You gotta stop that. I’m fine,” Dean replied, feeling anything but fine as Cas rested his forehead against his shoulder and his unruly hair tickled Dean’s cheek. “I’m gonna be plenty warm in my room. Come on.”

Dean drew his robe closed as Cas nodded weakly against his shoulder and stood up. They made their way through the frigid halls back to Dean’s door, but when Dean opened it expecting a wash of warmth, he was greeted with the stench of fried wiring. One glance at the slightly-smoking space heater and Dean was on his knees in front of it, staring hopelessly at the melted coil.

“No, no no no. Come  _on_! Don’t do this to me now.”

Cas hovered in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside and shutting the door. He looked down at his hands, which in no way contained the power to un-melt heating coils, and then over at Dean giving the small heater a whack before getting to his feet with a groan and giving it a kick for good measure.

“Ow, dammit,” Dean grumbled, kicking off his slipper and rubbing at his bruised toes. “This just gets worse and fucking worse. I just can’t get a win tonight.”

Cas instinctively walked over to Dean with an arm outstretched, about to heal him again. Dean saw him coming and shuffled backward, landing roughly on his bed and getting tangled up in his robe as he tried to scramble out of Cas’s reach.

“Dude, just chill. You already wasted enough mojo on me tonight. Save some for yourself.”

Cas frowned at Dean, but let his hand drop to his side as Dean struggled to pull the hem of his robe from beneath his feet. “I think  _chilling_  is the opposite of what needs to be done under the circumstances.”

Dean dragged himself up off the bed on the opposite side from Cas and stared at him. Cas now looked as tired and worn out as he felt, and short of getting in the car and driving a half an hour to the nearest motel, which neither of them were up to, there was only one solution to both of their problems. He licked his lips nervously and struggled to sound casual.

“Guess we’re gonna have to keep warm the old fashioned way, huh?”

Cas frowned and tilted his head, and an entirely inappropriate wave of warmth crashed through Dean. He willed himself to think about anything other than sharing body heat with his friend, and the dangerous succession of thoughts and fantasies that welled up and threatened to betray his less than appropriate feelings.

Dean turned his back on Cas and pulled off his robe, tossing it behind him onto the bed. It would be easier to explain his plan if he didn’t have to look Cas in the eye while doing it. Not to mention how exposed he felt in just a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants, while his body seemed intent on betraying just how warm certain parts of him felt about sharing a bed with Cas.

“Yeah, dude. Sharing body heat. It’s survival 101.”

Yeah, that sounded practical and manly. Too bad his voice cracked while he said it.

Dean inched backward toward the bed, pulling back the covers before climbing under them and reaching his hand behind him to pat the empty side of the mattress.

“Come on, Cas. Don’t make me have to spell it out for you.”

The room was silent for a moment before Dean heard Cas shuffle toward the edge of the bed and then felt the mattress dip as Cas slowly sat down. After a minute or two, Dean finally rolled over to see Cas sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed. It looked like he’d need to spell it out anyway. Dean groaned and pulled the blankets defensively around his shoulders.

“Dude, sharing body heat only works if everyone’s under the blankets. Like, together...”

Nope, this wasn’t completely awkward at all. Cas cast a terrified glance down at Dean before reluctantly kicking off his shoes.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, Dean. I can tell you’re reluctant to share a bed with me. If it weren’t a matter of your safety and health, I would never presume to invade your personal space in such an... intimate manner.”

Dean felt the words choke up in his throat, because dammit how the hell did Cas make not dying of hypothermia sound so titillating and seductive? Maybe Cas’s warming mojo had fried a few of his brain cells, but Dean was officially too exhausted and too aroused-- and entirely too fucking cold-- to care. If this was what drove him over the brink to accidentally blurting out certain confessions just to get Cas under the blankets, he considered it entirely justifiable. Practically anything was better than letting himself turn into a Deancicle while Cas worried about protecting his feelings.

He grunted out a gruff, “Survival first, awkwardness later, okay? Just take off your clothes and get under here before we both freeze to death.”

Cas complied, quickly stripping down to his plain white t-shirt and matching boxers, and a pair of rather tattered looking black dress socks. He shimmied under the covers while Dean was distracted thinking that he needed to get Cas some better clothes. Now that he knew it cost Cas something to keep himself warm, he at least deserved some thicker socks and maybe a pair of cozy flannel boxers to keep his nuts from freezing off.

Dean’s train of thought screeched to a halt at the relative warmth of Cas’s nuts, as the warm reality of Cas’s entire body lying inches from his own under the blankets plowed into him. It took everything in Dean to keep from rolling over and clamping his entire body around Cas like a koala, he was so freaking warm. He was terrified what else he might do if he allowed himself even that liberty. So instead he stared at Cas until Cas turned his head. Cas looked even more nervous than Dean felt.

“Better?” Dean croaked out.

Cas relaxed by increments and nodded. “It is certainly warmer. Is this okay?” Cas slowly rolled over onto his side to face Dean and hesitantly reached out to pull Dean closer to him. His voice trembled and dropped even lower. “You’re not uncomfortable... sharing body heat?”

Dean only hesitated for a second before letting himself sink into the warmth of Cas’s embrace, winding an arm around his waist and burying his face against the heat of his shoulder. It was easy enough to let the words slip out while he felt blissfully drugged by the absolute comfort and safety of Cas’s arms around him.

“Honestly this is the best I’ve felt in ages. Years, probably.”

Cas’s arms tightened around him and Dean snuggled down even deeper into the warmth, feeling the vibration rumble through him as Cas hummed contentedly. “I admit this is even nicer than I’d imagined it.”

Dean’s breath caught in his throat and he froze, desperate to pull back far enough to see Cas’s face but reluctant to break whatever weird bubble of honesty that had sprung up around them. Plus Cas smelled really good, and he was so warm and comfortable, if Dean moved now they might never get back to this spot again. And if Cas had spent his free time imagining what cuddling in bed with him would be like, there was no way in hell he was about to waste this perfect opportunity to share his similar fantasies with Cas. Emboldened, he pressed on.

“You, uh, spend a lot of time imagining this?” Dean asked into Cas’s shoulder, one traitorous hand idly tracing small circles over Cas’s spine. Before Cas could answer, Dean rushed on to reassure him. “I mean... I may have thought about it, too. Just... usually when I imagined it, we had, um... other motives than huddling together for survival...” Dean’s cheeks were definitely flushed from his confession, and he was doubly grateful that he hadn’t moved, and that he didn’t have to face Cas as he said it.

Cas heaved a sigh of relief and nuzzled his face down into Dean’s hair, his arms finally relaxing into his embrace. Dean was pretty sure he felt Cas press a kiss to the top of his head, and a shudder passed through him as he eased one knee between Cas’s legs, twining them together.

“Then we should try this again when our survival isn’t our primary motivating factor,” Cas suggested.

This did finally force Dean to pull away enough to look up into Cas’s face. He was met with a strange mix of restrained happiness, adoration, and terror, as if Cas were worried that he’d said too much, crossed a line that Dean had been unwilling to acknowledge had been there at all. Dean took a deep breath and nodded, licking his lips and studying Cas closely as he leaned in closer.

“Yeah,” Dean said, and then cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’s definitely a good idea. Or... or we could start now, if you want. I think we’ve waited long enough already.”

Cas cracked a smile, and it was like the sun smiling down on him. Dean’s breath caught in his throat as Cas hesitantly closed the distance between them and laid a cautious kiss on Dean’s forehead. And an entirely different kind of warmth radiated through Dean as he surged up to capture Cas’s lips with his own. They didn’t need any more words to keep them warm through the rest of the night.

Come morning, Sam banged on Dean’s door shouting about when the hell Dean intended to get up and fix the damn boiler already. Dean shouted back that he was still plenty warm for now, and Cas concurred. Sam stood on the other side of the door while he put all the pieces together, listening to Dean and Cas fucking  _giggling_  as he heard them stumbling around getting dressed. Poor Sam blinked a few times and shook his head.

“Uh, congrats you guys, I guess... take your time or whatever...” Sam said, and made the executive decision to be anywhere else before the two of them opened the door. Coffee. This situation definitely required coffee, even if Dean miraculously hadn’t had an angry sleep, or woken up like a bear. Sam didn’t dare take that thought any further as he picked up his pace toward the kitchen. He really didn’t need to know.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to torment me with your own offhand fluff headcanon, you can find me on the tumbls at [mittensmorgul](http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/). I'm not an angry sleeper, but sometimes I'm non-functional before coffee. :)
> 
> ETA: Apparently it was not clear that this comment was intended as a lamentation rather than an invitation to literally torment me with offhand fluff headcanons, and since I now seem to be awash in demands for actual fic via messages that literally begin "Prompt: ____", I guess I need to make it clear that I'm not a prompt fill blog, but sometimes someone throws a weird notion at me and I am compelled to write it to its bitter end. It's like spinning the big roulette wheel of fluff headcanons and most of the time it comes up bust... until it doesn't. I mean, roulette's got literally the worst odds in the house. Y'all are welcome to keep throwing headcanons at me like this, but the chances I'll actually write them out as a prompt fic like this are... slim to almost none. Just fyi. I mean, I've already got a google doc that's more than 30 pages long of nothing but my OWN fic ideas that I haven't had a chance to write yet, and I'm gonna give priority to those... unless you're lucky enough to land on whatever thing you need to land on to win the jackpot at the fic roulette wheel... 
> 
> I mean I love y'all dearly, but I feel really guilty about having given the impression that I'm soliciting actual fic prompts, and I really don't want to disappoint anyone when I'm just not moved to fill them... :(


End file.
